


To Find Each Other

by roseandheather



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandheather/pseuds/roseandheather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They found each other. (Drabble)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Find Each Other

"We found each other!"

She laughed it. She cried it. She said it like she couldn't believe it. And then she flung herself into his arms and held on like she would never let go.

He knew she would, eventually. Eventually that cursed phone would ring, and Gabriel or Provenza or Flynn would say, "Chief, we have a body." And she'd leave him again, leave him to do the job she loved.

But the miracle was that she kept coming back. Through AA and crazy parents, once-bit-twice-shy Southern belles, murder and mayhem and crazy hours, she kept coming back to him. She was frustrating and temperamental, and sometimes he wondered if she'd ever love him the way he loved her.

But then she'd look at him and smile that smile, the one that softened her eyes and melted his heart, and she'd come into his arms and murmur, "Oh, Fritzy," like just having his arms around her solved every problem she'd ever had and ever would have. And her breath would hitch the way it sometimes did, and her fingers would curl into his shirt and she'd just hold on like she was afraid he'd slip away, like she couldn't believe he was there and holding her. And whenever he started to wonder, he remembered that smile and that hitch and those long, elegant fingers curled in his shirt, and it would all be okay because she kept coming back even though she knew she'd have to leave again. And although she took his heart with her every time she left, he thought that maybe she kept coming back because he held her own in his hands.

"We found each other."

She said it again, said it like it was a revelation and a promise and a blessing all in one.

So he just buried his face in the silky-soft hair of the woman he loved, hair that smelled like peaches and roses and warm summer rain, and held her that little bit closer.

Because eventually that cursed phone would ring, and Gabriel or Provenza or Flynn would say, "Chief, we have a body." And she'd leave him again, leave him to do the job she loved.

But that was okay, because if she held his heart then he held hers, and that was the miracle. _Their_ miracle.

They'd found each other.


End file.
